Spark, Flare, Smolder
by Been Historic-xx
Summary: Follow Margalo, a less-than-normal house-cat, as her world is turned upside down by the appearance of a strange tom. Her life will never be the same, but does she want it to? Follow in her pawprints, and watch the rise of StormClan, the rise of hope.
1. Chapter 1

It was dark, midnight of the new moon, and it seemed even the stars were hiding. A few wisps of clouds crossed the ebony night, but to the north raged huge gray-breasted monsters, their flashing claws of lightning the only real light in the sky and their deafening yowls of thunder the only sound. The wind swept relentlessly through the streets, over and between the buildings and gardens and alleyways, chill, biting, and promising that the fearsome wrath of nature was on its way.

Not many braved the coming danger, most people holed up within their homes, their brightly-lit televisions blaring infomercials, popular shows, and, most common, tornado warnings. Surely all the children were in bed asleep, but their parents were fretting, planning, checking and re-checking. And their animals too were hidden away, knowing the unseen power that this storm could cause, hiding so that they would survive and live on. But not one. Perched high up on one of the taller homes, sitting high on the flat-topped chimney, one could see the flawless silhouette of a feline. She sat tall and unfazed as her coat rippled in the gale, poised with her tail curled comfortably over her paws. Her sharp eyes stared directly to the fierce, merciless force of nature, ears perked forward in interest. If one managed to come close enough, they would be granted the sight of the small, grim smile set upon her muzzle, the resigned but defiant spark in her smoldering pools.

She was not looking at the storm itself, but at what it represented. She had always done that. She had always been a rebel, more of a wild, street cat than one of those tame, calm, relaxed, house cats. She came and went as she pleased, caught her own food, but this was her home, for now. Her humans were kind, but she grew tired of them often, and knew in her heart that she was not what they had wanted, not what they had 'payed for' when they shipped her across the wide expanse of blue. But of course, she wasn't prissy like one might think a cat of her pure-bred lines would be, not proud. In fact, she didn't care. Besides, she definitely did not have that soft temperament her breed her supposed to have. But we may come across that at another time. For now, we shall return to the reason for this little narrative, the reason for the backdrop of our beautiful leading lady.

Picking back up the tangled mess of her drama's thread, she stared calmly out across the city around her, watched calmly as the disaster ruling the skies came closer. In her head, the danger did not register much, only resulting in a rush of anticipation through her blood, and unsheathing of her expectant paws against the unyielding brick beneath them. Something big was coming, something bigger than the storm. This was a warning, a promise. She knew -- she hoped, wished, dreamed -- that whatever was coming would change her life forever.

--Margalo

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_Yes, I know this is short, but it is only the prologue, and prologue are known to be short. (Unlike my seven page prologue for an orginial story... but we won't be getting into that, because it has absolutely __nothing__ to do with this ;) Anyways, please review, it really makes my day! You know, even if you critisize me (nicely!) I like hearing from my readers, instead of just getting tons of hits and not a single word of feed back. But, whether you do or not, I'll still keep writing. The story calls and all, as my fellow writers know. Historix-xx, signing off!_


	2. Chapter 2

**"Margalo! Margalo!"** She stirred in her sleep, ears flicking an annoyance at the familiar voice. **"Margalo! Margalo!"** She gave an irritated hiss, but opened her eyes. It was morning, but the sky outside held none of the brilliant sunshine this city normally basked in. Instead, rolling waves of gray blanketed their rooftops. **"Margalooooooo!"** Following that last caterwaul came the all-too-familiar sound of sheathed paws relentlessly banging against the window. Fogged by sleep and want of it, she stood and groggily made her way to the window, where the slim form of a tortoiseshell feline stood propped up with her paws on the glass. In one fluid motion she leapt up to the pane, every ounce of her annoyed thoughts showing plainly on her expression. **"Sheesh, what happened to you?"**

**"I was out last night, and my humans forgot and locked me out."** Not that she wouldn't normally mind staying out in the cover of night, but yesterday had been a different matter, seeing as she got hardly any sleep with the howling wind and roaring thunder.

**"Did they at least give you a decent breakfast?"** Her friend's light, airy voice asked, a sudden concern in her sapphire blue eyes. She too was of a certain breed, though it's history was too tangled to say anyone was purebred or not.

**"You mean rabbit droppings and slop? Yeah, they made sure my bowl was filled to the brim with that stuff."** Supposedly, it was supposed to be healthy. But it tasted like they had gone dumpster-diving for her palate. **"Meet me by the thornbush, and we can get some real food in our stomachs."** Her friend, as she was known to do, shook her head at Margalo's complaining, but turned away from the window and disappeared from sight. Jumping down from her own perch, she padded quietly across the cool linoleum to the door, little cat-flap and all. Pushing out of the confined space, she relished the mellowed form of the gale that had tormented her the night before. The clouds were still approaching, but in the pale light of the blocked-off sun, it didn't seem nearly as dangerous. Margalo would be out here even if it was worse. But that was just her stubborn self.

As she neared her sleek little friend and the thornbush they used frequently as a meeting place, she sat back on her haunches and proceeded to groom her long, feather-soft coat. It was a definite trademark of her breed. What would a Turkish Angora be without their lengthy, silky pelts? But, as she always was, Margalo was different, being a deep, rich ebony in color, instead of the well-known white. Her brilliant golden-amber eyes sparkled in contrast against the night sky of her fur. One of the reasons Kong, the burly brown tabby tom next door always had his eye, annoyingly, on her.

**"You know, you should really stop complaining. It could be much worse, stuck out on the street like those wild alley-cats."** Margalo rolled her eyes, not replying as she methodically cleaned one forepaw. **"Well, you could at least thank me for waking you up, you know how those storm clouds get to me."** The tortoiseshell lifted her eyes to the sky, her scent suddenly mingled with fear. She shivered and shook her head, before turning back to the other.

**"Thank you, Cecile."** she meowed, a grin on her ebony muzzle. It was the other's turn to roll her eyes, but she returned the smile. **"Now, how 'bout some **_**real**_** food?"** With that, she stood and bounded over to one of the fence posts, hardly pausing as she gathered her lithe form and leapt for the top. A life-time of practice made it easy for her, as Cecile scrambled up beside her. Margalo turned and walked atop the thin fence, paw in front of paw, like some highly-skilled gymnast on the balance beam. An easy feat for any cat.

In the residential area of the city, most of the fences were connected, so it was only too easy for the two she-cats to travel to the end of the high-end houses they lived in and to the darker side of cat-life, the business world, and the alley-ways. As always, fear began to leak off in Cecile's scent, but Margalo flicked her shoulder gently with the tip of her plumed tail, glancing back to see a half-smile on her friend's expression. Not only were the alleys a great place to catch some sort of prey, but, of course, the feral cats of the city called this place home. But they knew Margalo, and wouldn't bother her while she was hunting.

At the edge of the fence, she leapt down without hesitation. But, as always, Cecile stopped at the last post, sitting back comfortably to wait for the huntress' return. She was content with the food her humans gave her, but Margalo wasn't. After only a little while, the jet black she-cat returned, a good-sized sparrow in her jaws. She returned to the high perch in a liquid-like movement and settled down to eat, relishing the taste as well as the warmth of each bite. When she had finished, she gave her muzzle a quick wash, erasing all traces of her fresh-caught meal. **"You full? Can we go back now?"** With a bored yawn, Margalo nodded, unwilling to return to her garden, but knowing Cecile would only worry more if she was out here alone. Just as she was turning to take the short journey back, her golden eyes caught sight of another cat, hidden from the ground-view of the alley by the dumpster he had slipped behind.

Margalo paused, her full attention caught by the sleeping tom. His coat was ragged and his body battered, and, in all respects, he could just be another trouble-making alley-cat. But there was something different about him, something she couldn't place. Maybe it was his scent, now that she focused on it, opening her mouth to draw it in completely. Her eyes narrowed in thought, Cecile momentarily forgotten. He didn't smell like any other alley-cat. Not of streets, of trash, or even of humans. But he smelled like wind, and freshly fallen rain, and trees, lots and lots of trees. Margalo twisted back around and returned to the pavement below, the sound of her paws touching down alerting Cecile that she wasn't being followed like she thought she had.

The tortoiseshell she-cat bounded back to the fencepost. **"Where are you going now?"** she meowed worriedly, her deep blue eyes flashing around in case an alley-cat showed up. She had been fine with the hunting, but she had no idea what her friend was doing now.

**"Over there."** Margalo answered simply, flicking her tail in the direction of the dumpster, before disappearing behind it. From up on the fence post, Cecile caw where she was headed, and her worry grew.

**"You shouldn't mess with street cats, Margalo."** she warned, her own pelt bristling with fear of what might happen. All she received in answer was a flick of the ears to show that she had been heard. The ebony she-cat padded closer to the sleeping tom, pausing only a paw-step or two away.

He was an average-sized tom, though his pelt was short and coarse-looking, but thick enough to keep out the cold. In color, he was a dark brown tabby, but more of a red-brown than anything, his stripes a dark black. All four of his paws, as well as his muzzle and a small locket on his chest, were white, and his tail, from about half-way down was completely black. It was a long tail, too, long and whip-like. He looked fit, if worn, and she could see, even while sheathed, the tips of very long claws.

But, all the probable danger was pushed aside, and she prodded him gently in the side. No reaction occurred, so she prodded him once more, slightly more forcefully. Up on her fence post, Cecile tensed, claws slipping out to dig into the wood beneath her. She could only watch as the tom suddenly leapt to his paws, eyes wide, pelt bristling, ears laced back and claws extended, one of which was aimed at her friend.

--Margalo

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_Oh, cliffy! Thanks Nightclaw for your review! And, didn't I tell you these would get longer? Lol. Although I might not make you wait all that long for the next part, I'm kind of negelcting my rpgs and my other stories to write this... but I'm extrememly museful and I plan to use that muse. So check back! (And review!)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Warning: Lots of dialog concerning things you, as a Warriors fan, probably already know. And, if you haven't read past the first series, spoilers ahead!_ Thank you, that is all.

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A startled yowl split her maw and she jumped back out of his reach, instinctively arching her back, her own ears lacing back while her claws unsheathed and she bared her fangs. She hissed ferociously, golden-amber eyes blazing, but she didn't attack, and neither did the tom. Instead, he back up a few steps, stopping only when he was forced to, his dark tabby rump pressed against the dark green metal of the dumpster. He gave a low growl in reply to her hiss and crouched, ready for a fight if she instigated it, whip-like tail lashing back and forth menacingly. **"What do you want?"** he asked in a dark voice, and she realized that fear tainted the surprisingly deep green of his eyes. He was scared of her? Now... _that_ was funny. Instead of a snarl, a smile broke through her angry expression, and she took a few steps back, to show him that she meant no harm. He watched her warily, not trusting her for a single moment.

**"Want? Nothing but to know who you are. I know most of the alley-cats around here, and you looked a bit strange to me, definitely not a native of our grand little city."** There was a laughing sparkle in her amber orbs, but nothing save for a twitch of her whiskers showed her amusement in her expression.

**"Of course I'm not a filthy alley-cat!"** he exclaimed, eyes wide at the thought as his tabby head shook in disbelief. **"**_**I**_** am Tigerthistle, warrior of the great ShadowClan!"** Then his face fell, and all the pride in his deep emerald eyes faded quickly to sadness, his head dropping in sorrow. **"Or, at least, I was. ShadowClan, along with the other four great clans of the forest have been destroyed. We left this land seasons and seasons ago, but the twolegs continued their destruction at the lake. I may even be the last clan cat alive. By StarClan, I hope not!"** Margalo's pitch black ears tipped forward in interest at his strange words, a small twinge of sadness rushing through here at his own. But then he shut it all away, lifting his eyes to stare defiantly at her own. **"Besides, who are you to think you're so great to wake anyone you want?"** She smirked, flicking her tail to dispel his threatening tone. Or was it threatened? Ah, doesn't matter.

**"Me? My name is Margalo. I'm only a common house cat who prefers freshly-killed food than my human's slop. All the alley-cats around here know me, and I know them. Up there is my friend Cecile, but she only comes here with me."** She motioned with her muzzle to the tortoiseshell she-cat sitting tensely on the very edge of the fencepost. She watched the two of them closely, fear for Margalo bright in her sapphire eyes.

**"A kittypet who dares to wake a ShadowClan warrior?"** he growled, and once more shook his head. **"Either you're mouse-brained to no extent, or you're like Firestar. He was brave, for a ThunderClan cat."** Logging his rambles away for sometime later, when they may perhaps make more sense, Margalo stood, and flicked her tail for him to follow.

**"Well, come on. I know somewhere you can get some decent rest, instead of on this stinking dumpster's shadow. And maybe I'll catch you something later. A 'wild' cat like yourself will most likely be even less inclined toward eating like the humans think we should."** In one simple, graceful motion, she gathered her lithe body together than leapt over his head to land nimbly beside a started Cecile.

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment. **"Why should I trust you?"** Okay, the fierce, I'm-so-much-better-than-you act was getting annoying. Margalo rolled her eyes and shot him a look over her ebony shoulder.

**"If I wanted to flay you, I wouldn't have bothered waking you up."** Then, passing the still-stunned tortoiseshell, she mumbled under her breath. **"**_**Toms**_**."**

It didn't take very long to return to her garden, at which point Cecile turned to head towards her own home, probably to sleep the unexpected excitement of the morning off. After saying good bye to her friend, Margalo leapt easily down to the soft grass, rolling over onto her back for good measure. She gave a purr as she stood, shaking the loose green blades out of her long coat, and smiling at the strange stare she was receiving from Tigerthistle. **"This is my home, why not enjoy it?"** she asked simply, and he shrugged his broad shoulders before joining her on the ground.

**"Well, I must admit, it's better than that black stuff."** he remarked, kneading the thick pelt of the earth with obvious pleasure, even thought it was equally obvious that he was trying not to show it.

**"You mean pavement?"** she asked, rolling her eyes once more, then bounding across the lawn to the cat-flap in the door. An uneasy growl sounded behind her.

**"I'm not going in there."** She flicked her tail slightly in annoyance.

**"Then make yourself at home somewhere out here. I'll be back in a few."** Making her way for the second time today across the linoleum, Margalo leapt onto the counter, glancing out the window to see Tigerthistle sitting stubbornly right where she had left him, in the middle of the grass. She shook her head and smiled, before making her way to the cupboard. Her humans were so slick, giving her that slop when they could give her something better. Not as good as fresh, but it was better than anything readily at hand. And, it would get his strength up. With her nose she pushed the wooden door open, and slipped onto one of the boards on which the cans were placed. Checking a few out, she finally found the one she was looking for, and tipped it onto it's round side, before nosing it to the edge of the board and out onto the kitchen floor. She leapt down after it and pushed the door closed with her head, before turning back to the small can. It was one of those easy open ones, no human contraption required. Margalo's claws on one paws slipped out and she dug them under the part she had seen her humans lift up so many times, but she hardly was able to lift it at all. With an irritated hiss, she moved on to the second option, her teeth. After struggling with it for a little while, she heard a satisfying pop, and the smell of tuna filled the air. Smiling proudly, she lifted the now-open can and made her way back to the cat-flap, ignoring the small trail of droplets as it swung back and forth.

**"What is that?"** Tigerthistle asked, eyeing the can suspiciously. She ignored him for a moment, carrying it closer to him before setting it on the grass. She grabbed the tab she had recently popped and pulled back as the thin lid slid back with it.

**"Food. The good kind, for human food, that is."** She took a small bite, showing him that it was alright, and stepped back, before settling down in a comfortable crouch. He hesitated, but grudgingly took a bite. And, being hungry, he quickly devoured the contents. Licking the juice off his whiskers, he scowled at Margalo's amused expression.

**"It's kittypet food."** he spit. **"But it will do."**

**"A thanks would be nice."** she returned sharply, and his eyes widened in surprised, apparently having forgotten her fierceness when she had been ready to fight him.

**"Fine. Thanks."** he meowed simply, and sat back in silence, just looking at her. Her paws tingled in his emerald gaze, but she met it, her eyes very plainly saying "What?" He shook his head and looked away. Margalo licked one forepaw and drew it over her ears, repeating the motion slowly, letting her mind drift.

**"You can sleep over under that bush, it's actually not too low to the ground, and has a soft bedding of leaves. I often spend the night there when my humans forget I'm outside and lock the door."** He nodded, but still stared fixedly at his white paws, his own eyes narrowed in thought. Margalo sighed in the silence and shifted to a more comfortable position. **"But night's not for a while and, except for my morning hunt with Cecile, I don't have anything to do today. So, why don't you tell me more about your 'great' clan?"** She was actually very curious about it. She wanted to know about anything strange or different. This tom and his ShadowClan intrigued her perhaps even more so.

**"Maybe if you ask nicely."** His tone... Was it teasing? She gave a small growl in reply, but smiled nonetheless. **"Okay, I'll tell you anyways.**

**"ShadowClan was one of four clans of the lake, but once they lived here in the forest that the twolegs destroyed for their own uses. I wouldn't know anything about that and the Great Journey but what I've heard from elder's stories. Anyways, ShadowClan were the fiercest and bravest of the clans. We were the night-hunters, the cats every other clan feared. Eaglestar lead us through good times and bad. Our clan always came first, and we didn't care if we received a bad reputation from the others. We did what we needed to do, nothing more, nothing less.**

**"But you probably want to know more about the clans as a whole. Well, each clan had a leader, the one in charge of everything, and the one who was second-closest to StarClan, our ancestors. When they became leader, they traveled to the Moonpool and received nine lives and -star at the end of their name from StarClan. Second in command was the deputy, also second in line to become leader if the current one was killed or driven out. They usually managed patrols and helped the leader decide on mentors, apprentices, and other such matters. The closest cat to StarClan was the medicine cat, our healer, who often received dreams and prophecies from our ancient warriors. Then came the warriors, like myself. We made up the majority of the clan, and hunted and fought for everyone in it. Also, we were mentors, when our leader assigned us an apprentice, we taught them the ways of the Warrior Code, which is the code every clan cat follows or faces the wrath of StarClan, as well as how to hunt and fight. Queens were any she-cats with kits, and they stayed in the nursery until their kits became apprentices at six moons, and then they returned to being warriors. Elders were the cats too old or injured to fight or take care of themselves, but they did a great job of keeping young kits out from underpaw with their stories.**

**"The other three clans were WindClan, ThunderClan, and RiverClan. WindClan were the runners, out on that open moor of theirs. They were flighty, but also proud cats, and quick as an adder when danger arose. RiverClan were the swimmers. Their territory was made up of forests and rivers and they usually ate fish, where WindClan ate rabbits. They were strong cats, proud to such an extent that was the downfall of one of their notable leaders, Leopardstar. If they wanted something, they fought for it, and they would hold you in dept until your fur fell off if they did a favor for you. ThunderClan... well, ThunderClan has been the center of many stories. They were forest cats, much like ShadowClan, but their forests were full of undergrowth and they mainly hunted mice while we in ShadowClan lived off a wide array of prey. They were the ones that were once lead by a former kittypet, Firestar. Also, they were the clan where Tigerstar originated."**

At that part, he grimaced, and his story ceased. The entire time Margalo sat with ears tilted forward and eyes gazing off as she absorbed the information. Now her head tilted very slightly to the side, maybe like a questioning kit. **"And who was Tigerstar?"** Silence met her words, and the dark tabby tom shuffled his paws uncomfortably.

**"My namesake, and my grandfather's namesake. He was a traitor to ThunderClan, killed the deputy in hopes that he would become the next. But he didn't. Then, when Lionheart died in a battle, he got his wish. But it wasn't enough. He tried to kill the leader before Firestar, her name was Bluestar. But he was found out, and exiled from ThunderClan. Then he became a ShadowClan cat, and somehow won them over, and was excepted as their leader. His thirst for power didn't end there. He wanted the whole forest. He succeeded in killing Bluestar only when he managed to lure a pack of dogs into preying on ThunderClan. But that wasn't the worst of his feats. He brought RiverClan and ShadowClan together, creating TigerClan and told the others that they would have to join. ThunderClan and WindClan refused. That was when he made his worst mistake. He brought BloodClan into the forest."**

Again, a pause in the story. But this time, the ebony she-cat felt a shiver race down the length of her body. **"I've heard of BloodClan. Never more than whispers though. Apparently they disappeared long ago, but those who speak of them fear their return any day."** she meowed quietly, an uncharacteristic fear sweeping through her. If BloodClan had roamed the city streets today... Her thoughts trailed off. She didn't want to think about it.

**"Yes, they were defeated. But first Scourge, their leader, killed Tigerstar. Then he warned all the clans that they had to leave, or they would be killed. BloodClan wanted to forest, and he had the cats behind him to back him up. The clans refused, and joined together. Under the name of LionClan, which the joined-together ThunderClan and WindClan had called themselves, they fought. In the battle, Firestar killed Scourge, and BloodClan fled."**

**"So that's it for the family history, eh?"** Margalo meowed, her tone completely different than before. Startled, Tigerthistle looked up at her with confusion in his eyes. She shook her head in slight exasperation. **"And who cares what some cat did years and years ago? Apparently, you're no Tigerstar, or we wouldn't be here, but probably back in that alley fighting tooth and claw. Not the kind of cat I'd invite to food and a place to sleep."** She stretched leisurely, ignoring the still-clear confusion on his face. Instead, her golden-amber eyes lifted to the cloud-blanketed sky, and a small scowl covered her features. She could tell, it was going to break tonight, maybe even sooner. **"Perhaps you should come inside. That bush won't hold out long."** He followed her gaze to the sky, but when she looked back down at him, he looked more than a little hesitant.

**"I told you. I'm **_**not**_** going in there."** he growled, the tip of his tail flicking uneasily.

**"And why not? Would you like to be barbecued and drowned?"** she countered, his stubbornness making her tongue sharp and her voice quick.

**"Why would I except help from twolegs? They destroyed my home!"** he hissed in return, dark tabby ears lacing back against his head.

**"Well, I'll see you in the morning, if you can survive Mother Nature at her worst."** Margalo snapped, giving him a glare before standing and making her way back toward the cat flap. One minute he was fine, the next she wanted to shred his ears off! But as she slipped into the house, she glanced back and caught him staring after her, a strange, slightly confused look on his face. With an inward sigh, she decided she'd keep the door unlocked, just in case the bird-brain got his head in order.

--Margalo

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_Yes, lots of dialog... I know everyone probably knows all about the clans and BloodClan and Tigerstar, but Margalo doesn't! And... if any of you guess who Tigerthistle is related to, I'll give you a cookie! It's really easy, though, so that's all you get, but you get to pick the kind of cookie, lol. Lots of thanks to Nightclaw for your constant reviews! It motivates me to write more, or actually, sooner. I'd still write, but you would proabbaly not get updates every day... more like every month, lol _


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